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Winds at Dawn
Winds at Dawn is a Horror-Suspense BIONICLE short story serial during the Brotherhood of Makuta - Dark Hunter war of the Gen 1 BIONICLE story. It follows a group of dark hunters during an incident on a prison island, and the story is heavily influenced by that of the 1992 science fiction horror film Alien 3. Mavrah333 has given the serial a suggested age of 15+ for moderate, very graphic and potentially disturbing, injury detail, infrequent on page violence, mild langauge and mild drug references. Introduction The howling wind screamed across a grey, gloomy sky. A despairing wail flew up to the heavens, as if the wind had been punished by a power in the sky. The wind smashed against the rocky coastline, pulling the churning sea behind it into the pale-grey sand. A figure stood in the sand, clutching a spear in one hand, and a rock in the other. The figure appeared to be in good health, a red Skakdi at the age of his prime. He observed the stone which he had picked up for a second, and then thrust it into the ocean. It was a distraction. The coastline was that of Relja Yeta, a prison planet owned by the Dark Hunters. The inmates included political prisoners, defects of the Dark Hunters, and all manner of other prisoners. The insane, the experienced, and the quick-witted were the only prisoners who were likely to survive long in the cell block. The guards had it easy, then just made sure that none of the prisoners found a way out of the cell block. The Skakdi, whose name was Ratan, sighed. This job was easy, and The Shadowed One paid very well for it. In a week, his shift would be over, and he'd be back home for a month, before he'd be requested to do another job. This was his sort of life, and he knew that there would be others like him desperate for the circumstances he lived in. He didn't like The Shadowed One, few did. But he owed his leader his life, and he was eternally grateful for what that Vortixx did. However it wouldn't take him long to think of a more interesting job than guard duty. Suddenly, an alarm on Ratan's head went off. This only ever happened when something unusual happened. This was bad. He switched on the microphone, and answered the alarm. 'What the hell is going on?' 'We have a problem Ratan.' answered Shyl. Ratan groaned inwardly. He hated his sergeant. 'What sort of a problem?' 'We've had a killing, one of our prisoners has been, diced!' 'Well that's hardly unusual. The prisoners kill each other all the time.' 'The prisoner wasn't in the cell block. Somehow he'd got out. And someone must've sliced him up.' Ratan knew he should be worried. Prisoners escaping and killing each other would look bad on the report. But at least it would relieve the boredom. Chapter 1: DISCOVERY 'Take your time, why don't you?' sneered Shyl sarcastically, as Ratan entered the dark brown cylindrical corridor. 'Half an hour it's been and you still haven't got here. Where were you?' The yellow-brown being resembled a vahki, but head was shorter and he was significantly taller. His glass-green eyes were full of both fear and frustration as Ratan finally arrived. 'The north coastal beach.' Replied Ratan. 'I've run all the way here, just to find out what you mean by diced. I hope it's worth my time.' 'See for yourself.' Shyl grimaced, gesturing to a pile of blood soaked armor on the ground. It appeared to be the body of a Toa, although there was little left to identify them, and there was so much blood everywhere that it was impossible to work out the element. The head, right leg, and much of the torso was missing. Suddenly, there was a popping sound, most likely a vital organ, and a sticky, rancid solution of blood and flesh poured out, adding to the grotesque image. Ratan looked up at Shyl. 'You said diced. I had no idea that you could have meant this.' Shyl nodded. That's not the worst of it. I tried radioing in the nearest island. Our connections are cut. Then I searched through the cell block. No one alive. Just body after body. We can assume that some of them have escaped. 'How many of us are there here?' 'Twenty guards, including you. Two sergeants, including myself, and our combat drone.' 'How many prisoners do you think got out?' 'A lot. The odds aren't in our favor' 'And we can't get help?' 'No.' Ratan groaned. 'Then we're screwed.' Chapter 2: DECISIONS Twenty two dark hunters, of various races and origins, sat around the table in the centre of the mess. Shyl and Kess, the two prison sergeants, sat at the head of the table, with the guards looking expectantly at them, hoping to be briefed on what had happened. Some of them knew what had happened, but Shyl didn't want a panic. The sergeant stood up, and addressed the other dark hunters. 'As some of you know, at seven hundred hours this morning, the cell block was found empty of living convicts. It appears that around thirty prisoners escaped from their cells, and that they have hidden themselves around the island. A prisoner was found eviscerated near the western beach two hours ago.' The guards looked at each other. They all knew that Shyl was hiding something. 'You say that they broke out, did you?' called out Mret, a being similar in shape to a rahkshi, with brown armour and an arm missing, replaced with a sinister looking blade. 'Now I might not be the brightest here, but I'm good at smelling rahi-dung when its thrown at my face. There's no way that the prisoners could have escaped from the cell block. Someone must have opened it from the outside.' 'I was getting to that.' snapped Shyl. 'We suspect that one of you might have let the prisoners out. Your punishment will be much less severe if you give yourself up now.' The prisoners looked around at each other, unsure of who it could be. Ratan saw no suspicious expressions on the faces of any of the others; his past life had taught him how to detect liars and traitors, and the looks on the others' faces told him that none of the guards were responsible. Ratan cleared his throat, and spoke for the rest of the guards: 'Maybe there's someone else in here with us.' Chapter 3: HIDE AND SEAK Ratan's footsteps echoed across the corridor, the metal grating below his feet rattling every time he put his foot down. The guards had left the relative safety of the mess hall to find the convicts. Ratan was with Mret, the suspicious rahkshi from the meeting, along with Kess, the other sergeant. Ratan's idea of an intruder had been laughed off by most, particularly Shyl, but Ratan couldn't be sure. Who could have reached the island's shores undetected, and why would they release the prisoners? These were the worst of the worst, the insane and the vicious. These were born killers. A high pitched scream suddenly echoed through the complex. Ratan, Mret and Kess all turned in the direction of the sound, and cautiously walked towards it, with Mret in the lead. Mret loaded his SMG, and turned a corner. The next sound that Ratan and Kess heard was Mret's own scream: another body, similarly disfigured as the first corpse, with sections of the legs removed, and black blood oozing from an eye cavity. Ratan stepped back in repulsion. 'Wait, oh crap, that's one of the guards!' muttered Kess, loading her shotgun.The three dark hunters quickly made sure that they were alone, each of them peering down the corridors. Being at a cross section didn't help. When he was sure that they were fine, Ratan bent down to identify the corpse. Blood splattered all over Ratan's face, but he didn't care. He just had to find out who it was. 'It's Helgor.' he grimaced. 'Look at the tattoos and the tribal markings. Clearly attacked from behind, there's blood pouring from his back.' 'Mata Nui what killed him?' gasped Mret. 'I'm more concerned about why parts of his legs are gone.' 'Why?' asked Kess. 'The attack from behind was enough to kill him in seconds. No one could have survived that. But the legs appear to have the outer armour removed. Any assassin knows not to waste time on a body if the death is known to the victims allies.' 'So what do you suggest?' 'We take the body back to the mess hall. We need a safer environment to do an autopsy in. This place gives me the creeps.'